Saturday, May 05, 2018

It’s been quite some time since I wrote a long review. In fact, I think it’s probably the longest period since ABR began. There’s been a variety of reasons, with paying work dominating my desk time, but also, quite simply, just the ins and outs of family life. I’ve also felt the language I’ve been using in the long reviews has become a bit repetitive. In short, while the brief magazine reviews have flowed okay, I’ve been a bit stuck on the long review. As time passes, too, since the read, it becomes harder to review a book without effectively going back through it in some detail. There was one book, however, that I’ve read in the past six months that has kept me looking ever forward. Why? It is as near to as perfectly crafted as you are ever likely to get. Just thinking about it makes me want to be better, makes me want to try to write something approaching this book. It is Liberator by Ron Watts.

‘Harry’ Hartwig grew up in South Australia’s Barossa Valley, the son of devout German Lutheran parents. It was not an easy upbringing, with considerable family heartache before he left home, but the Hartwigs were resilient people. Handy too. Harry’s father built his family a house, among other things, so they could supplement their meagre income with rent from their former family home. While clever with his hands, Hartwig senior was fond of a drink and, therefore, prone to extended bouts of unreliability which, in the late 1920s/early 1930s, was not at all useful. Harry’s ever suffering mother, and her strict faith, kept the family together. When he left home, indeed before that, Harry’s faith had begun to wane. He found freedom on his motorcycle and, unsurprisingly, a career in the wine industry. A female colleague rekindled his interest in religion, but it was not until 1941 that he returned to the flock as they say, albeit to a church that his parents, being Lutheran, would regard as non-conformist.

At this juncture, I must point out that religion plays a very strong part in this book. Indeed, the book is published by the Mission Aviation Fellowship for reasons that will soon become clear. I apologise in advance for stumbling my way through that angle of the review.

Having served briefly as an Army dispatch rider, no doubt something he would have enjoyed, our hero learns to fly in Australia and Canada before electing to complete a General Reconnaissance course and then heading to the Bahamas, a clear sign he is destined for Coastal Command. The time spent on leave in North America is fairly typical of Australians overseas and Harry fell in love with the ‘endless summer’ that met him in the Bahamas. Now a prolific letter writer, particularly to his sister, the book benefits from regular enlightening quotes and depth to the already superb narrative. Such letters are worth their weight in gold as any aircrew book author will attest.

While Harry and his colleagues are training for long sea patrols, flying Mitchells as a lead in to Liberators, their long flights over the ocean are effectively operational sorties. While not counted as such, it’s more or less what they were. Harry had already flown many, many hours in the big Consolidated bomber before he was posted to 206 Squadron RAF in Cornwall for ops over the Atlantic and North Sea. He transitioned to the Liberator just thirteen months after flying the Tiger Moth for the first time. Let that settle in. It’s unremarkable because it was expected, and familiar if you regularly visit these times, but it really is a hell of an achievement.

As co-pilot, the steady, reliable Hartwig flew more than half of the required 600 hours that made up a Coastal Command tour. His pilot was several years his junior, but, along with several other personalities encountered at the time, proved a wise guiding hand to Harry’s faith as it began to evolve into something that remains tangible to this day.

The flying was not without its challenges, mostly due to bad weather, and Harry was soon back in the Bahamas to train as a captain at the head of his own crew. The war ended before he could fly operationally and complete his tour in this capacity.

Post-war, there is a realisation that aviation can further spreading of the word and assist those doing such work. While Harry is not the only one to think this way (there were similar ’pioneers’ with wartime experience in North America and the UK), and bolstered by discussions on the subject during the war, he continues the renewal of his faith by commencing religious studies in Melbourne as preparation for his intended life as a missionary. A passionate and driven man, he almost single-handedly raises awareness of the value of aviation to remote missions in Australia and further afield. Meeting some resistance during an aerial survey of the northern reaches of Australia, he sets his sights on New Guinea and is ultimately successful in establishing what has become a worldwide organisation. Flying supplies and passengers between missions and towns, journeys that would take days were whittled down to several hours. Medical services, in particular, benefitted from the aviation services Harry had worked so hard to establish. Sadly, however, after giving his all, Harry Hartwig gave his all while returning to Madang in August 1951.

This is an exquisite read. It’s not full of combat operations or tales of derring do, but that makes the author’s achievement all the more impressive. Harry is there warts and all, his very thoughts laid bare or, at least, finely constructed into the detailed narrative. It is, as suggested above, a lesson in writing.

The religious angle will possibly turn a few potential readers away. I had not read a book with such an evident ‘theme’ since the excellent Voice from the Stars by Tom Scotland DFC (and that side of things doesn’t appear until well into his tour when he has a night sortie epiphany). There are several passages that, my apologies, raised an eyebrow or two, but that’s simply because they’re not my beliefs. I’m quite happy, fascinated even, to learn what drives other people, what makes them who they are and how they see the world and live their life. A mile in someone else’s shoes and all that. It is all just nicely weaved into a magnificent account. Look at Harry Hartwig as an aviation pioneer because that’s exactly what he was.

What is eminently frustrating, though, was the circumstance of his death. Pushing on for a mountain pass through bad weather, keen to get back to his wife and child, there is an underlying current of God’s will in his actions, and the outcome of those actions, as though it was his time to go. No, sorry, he flew into bad weather (in New Guinea!) and paid for his recklessness with his life. This was a man who had committed himself to a life of service. That is something, motivations and inspiration aside, that was ultimately wasted. He could have, would have, helped thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands. "Just turn around and wait it out, Harry!" Extinguishing the potential of a young life is nothing unusual, sadly. After all, the world was still coming to grips with yet another global conflict that had done just that while looking ahead and seeing more of the same as Korea kicked off. Even the author, a deeply religious man and aviator (the perfect person to write this book), questions why ‘the powers that be’ decided to end Harry’s life early.

A solid paperback of a little over 230 pages, Liberator is copiously illustrated with two-page spreads of text only in the minority. Harry’s legacy is in the modern day Mission Aviation Fellowship, a “strategic ministry” with operations around the world delivering the services envisioned by Hartwig more than seventy years ago. The title of the book, of course, cleverly refers to his wartime work and what would have been his lifetime’s work. It sets the tone from the start. The depth of thought exercised by the author to produce this fine example of the writer’s craft is reflected in what is really quite a succinct narrative. There is not a word wasted nor is there one out of place. Liberator is a window to a man’s soul, but shows the reader the door to writing perfection.

Comments? Questions?

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Welcome

Welcome to one of my silly ideas. I have been an avid reader of aircrew memoirs from the Second World War for as long as I can remember (not counting the various other interests that I have flitted to over time). I started collecting titles as found on Amazon but in the past few years have concentrated on books about the members of the RAF, FAA and Commonwealth air forces. I still maintain an interest in the operations of the USAAF, USN, Luftwaffe and Japanese forces but, as an Australian, you can probably understand where my heart lies!

Around about 2000, when I started collecting in earnest, I stuggled to find vast amounts of books on the subject. For those of you in the know this is a ridiculous thing to say as there are thousands of titles on the RAF alone.

In the past four or five years I have been fortunate to make some excellent friends in the UK and Australia who have helped broaden my knowledge of what's available and, in some cases, spend my money for me. In doing so, I have also corresponded with and met several authors and gained some insight into what it takes to put a well-researched book together. One of these days I hope to do the same but for the time being writing reviews and the occasional article will see me through as I gather what I need.

I have worked as a journalist in the past and run my own online magazine which was very time consuming and eventually led to another blog which is much easier to maintain. My interest in the aviation of the Second World War began with a school library book on The Battle of Britain when I was nine. Numerous plastic models, museum visits, magazine subscriptions, movies and Commando comics later I branched out into books like Squadron Signal's 'In Action' series (cheap for a teenager) and generalist titles covering certain aircraft. My first memory of a memoir (ha) was an oldish, secondhand copy of Alex Henshaw's superlative Sigh for a Merlin bought at a primary school market - incidentally, still the best Spitfire book I have ever read. I devoured it and although I haven't read it since (early 1990s) I can still vividly remember many of Alex's adventures testing this greatest of aircraft. One of these days I'll read it again.

My time as a journalist proper was short-lived as I had to make some decent money but it followed time as an accountant, truck driver and recruitment researcher. As of March 2010, I have stepped into commercial accounting which is a different kettle of fish and certainly not all spreadsheets and numbers (to be honest, the best job I have ever had).

Throughout my various incarnations I have maintained a fascination for what aircrew experienced during the war. I have been fortunate enough to meet several veterans and have even worked alongside some on a couple of major aircraft restorations down here in Australia. To a man I have found them friendly, modest and, at times, wondering what all the fuss is about. A gross generalisation perhaps but any variance would be understandable considering what they lived through. I know I could certainly not have done what they did in their late teens/early 20s. Fortunately, I have not had the opportunity to prove this otherwise and that's largely because of what these men (and women) sacrificed for what we have today.

Each book is a pleasure to read (even the not-so-great ones) and I try to convey what each is like to read without giving the game away too much. I also endeavour to let you know when or where I bought my copy and where it is available now as I try to review a mix of old and new titles (basically whatever takes my fancy at the time although when review copies come in, these take precedence). Honesty is at the core of everything I write on here so if something doesn't sit right with me or I feel it affects the 'experience' of the book, I will mention it.

Please feel free to recommend titles I may not be aware of or that you think would complement a reviewed title.